


Talk to the Hand

by Lady_Saddlebred



Series: Lessons They Never Taught Me [51]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: #jinnobi challenge 2020, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:42:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27251398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Saddlebred/pseuds/Lady_Saddlebred
Summary: for Jinn/Kenobi 2020 Challenge
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Lessons They Never Taught Me [51]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/99608
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14
Collections: Master Apprentice Archive





	Talk to the Hand

Title: Talk to the Hand

Author: Lady_Saddlebred (cdelapin@yahoo.com)

Archive: Yes, please

Category: Q/O, Alternate Reality

Rating: NC-17

Series: Lessons They Never Taught Me in School (archived)

DISCLAIMER: George Lucas owned everything until he sold it to Disney. We own nothing, just playing in his playground.

Special thanks always to Katbear and Helen, mes betas par excellence! Any mistakes are mine.

Summary: Revenge is a dish best served cold…

Previous fics in series: all on AO3 website:  
Early Admission  
Lessons They Never Taught Me in School  
Lessons That Were Never on the Syllabus  
That Which Does Not Go to School  
Rainy Day Recess  
Of Popcorn and Pine Trees  
Fit to Print  
Daffodils  
Spring Cotillion  
Is That a Lightsaber I See Before Me?  
A Pen for Your Thoughts  
When I Was Your Age  
Partners  
Mum’s the Word  
Best Laid Plans  
An Apple for Teacher  
What’s for Supper?  
Pacifier  
Snow Angels  
One Man’s Junk  
May I Have This Dance?  
Four Green Fields  
Too Darned Hot  
Pomp and Circumstances  
Summertime Blues  
Blow the Man Down  
Post-Graduate Studies  
Crossing the Pond  
Moving On  
Picnic in the Park  
Family Matters  
Meeting of the Moms  
Ebony and Ivories  
A Less Than Perfect Storm  
Chicken Soup  
Measuring Up  
The Drinking Game  
Rainy Day Recess Revisited  
Step It Out  
Souls Mirrored  
The Pizza Fairy  
Trick or Treat  
Moonlight  
May the Fourth Be With You  
Nollaig Shona Duit  
Heart Healthy  
An Uninvited Guest  
Hijinks and Lowjacks  
Déjà Vu (WIP)

~*~*~*~

“Ooh, s’nice… mmm, yeah, like that…”

Ben came slowly awake to the feel of deliciously cool fingers running along his inner thigh and creeping toward his groin. He floated hazily in the dark, unable to do more than murmur encouragement. 

Quinn had stayed up late grading mid-terms, and Ben had fallen asleep watching “The Haunting” in the bedroom. Quinn had apparently decided to make up for his earlier absence, in a most delightful manner. Ben groaned as the silent, stealthy attack continued. Sweet torture… 

His pleasure-soaked brain vaguely registered that the covers had been pulled down, yet he couldn’t feel Quinn’s body next to him, or between his legs. There was no sound in the room except his own sighs of appreciation. He wasn’t dreaming: he could definitely feel fingers moving across his skin… He struggled to a half-sitting position-

“What the *hell*?!?!” Frantically scrambling away from the disembodied “ghost” hand between his legs. “Holy fuckin’ shit!”

The ectoplasmic hand trembled violently, then abruptly fell to the mattress and was still. Ben grabbed for the bedside table lamp, even as Quinn’s triumphant laugh filled the room. He gleefully brandished a wooden pole with a Day-Glo latex glove on one end, the digits unnervingly distended. The fingertips had been dipped in something a ghastly shade of dark red that matched the faint stripes on Ben’s thigh and hip.

“You sick bastard,” Ben spluttered. “You nearly gave me a heart attack! Damn!”

“Happy Halloween, love,” Quinn chortled. “You looked so peaceful lying there, I almost hated to disturb you, but…” He waggled the stick. “It was just too good an opportunity to pass up.”

“Shit-for-brains leprechaun,” Ben complained, still trying to shake off the memory of the bloody ‘ghost hand’. It had felt really good, but knowing now it hadn’t been even human, much less Quinn’s… “Prick,” he muttered, pulling up the bedclothes to conceal his rapidly diminishing arousal. 

“Well now, if that’s the way you feel about it,” Quinn drawled, laying the pole across the foot of the bed, “I’d best be removin’ meself to the guest room for the duration and let you enjoy a good old-fashioned pout.” He gave an exaggerated sigh of regret and started for the door, but Ben could see the grin struggling to surface again. 

“Get your sorry arse back here,” he growled, throwing back Quinn’s side of the covers. “Finish what you started!”

“Why, t’wasn’t me,” Quinn protested, his face the very picture of innocence. “Must have been a wee boggart, come to pay you a midnight call.” He nodded sagely. “Sure and t’was more than likely one of those cartoon thingies from your computer, come to life under the harvest moon.” He held up both hands. “I’d not dare try to come between you and your new love. T’would be more than me life was worth, bucko.” The blue eyes twinkled mischievously in the lamplight.

Crap on a cracker. Ben had all but forgotten the dancing leprechaun avatar he’d sneaked onto Quinn’s laptop over the summer . The older man’s reaction had been priceless. He felt his irritation fading. 

“You’re crazy, you know that?” he asked, laughing shakily as he examined the glove. Stuffed with loose cotton batting, the “bloody” fingertips were smeared with cherry-flavored edible lube. Inventive, yet almost childlike in its simplicity. It was a pretty impressive trick, he had to admit. 

He looked up at Quinn, who had given up trying to keep a straight face. “That damned ‘boggart’ had better watch out,” he warned. “Next time, there might be something worse waiting for him!”

~end~


End file.
